SONNET. THE WINTER TRAVELLER.

God help thee, Traveller, on thy journey far;

The wind is bitter keen,— the snow o'erlays

The hidden pits, and dangerous hollow ways,

And darkness will involve thee. No kind star

To-night will guide thee, Traveller,— and the war

Of winds and elements on thy head will break,

And in thy agonizing ear the shriek

Of spirits howling on their stormy car

Will often ring appalling — I portend

A dismal night — and on my wakeful bed

Thoughts, Traveller, of thee will fill my head,

And him who rides where winds and waves contend,

And strives, rude cradled on the seas, to guide

His lonely bark through the tempestuous tide.